Adrian’s Ultimatum
The academy gardens were quiet, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. Lyra had come here seeking solace, her mind weighed down by the growing complexities of their situation. But she wasn’t alone for long.
Adrian emerged from the shadows, his movements deliberate and purposeful. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, and Lyra’s wolf stirred uneasily. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice sharper than usual.
Lyra tensed, her instincts screaming that this was not going to end well. “What do you want, Adrian?” she asked, keeping her tone even.
He stepped closer, his frustration evident in the way his hands clenched at his sides. “I’ve tried to be patient,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But you’re running out of time, Lyra. Tell me the truth.”
Lyra’s heart raced, but she held her ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice steady despite the panic building inside her.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed, and he took another step closer. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice tinged with anger. “I can see it in the way you move, the way you flinch at blood rituals, the way you avoid questions. You’re hiding something—and I’m done waiting for you to come clean.”
Lyra’s wolf growled softly, its defiance fueling her own. “You don’t know anything,” she said, her voice cold.
Adrian’s frustration boiled over, and he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra stared up at him, her silver eyes blazing with defiance. “If you think you can intimidate me, Adrian, you’re wrong,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension, their unspoken emotions threatening to spill over.
Adrian’s gaze hardened, his expression unreadable. “If you think I won’t choose the King over you, you’re wrong,” he said finally, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
As he released her arm and stepped back, Lyra felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name—anger, fear, and perhaps a hint of regret. She watched as Adrian walked away, his shoulders tense, leaving her alone in the quiet garden with the echoes of his ultimatum lingering in the air.
